


Cohabitation

by Moonsheen



Category: DRAMAtical Murder
Genre: Blow Jobs, Coitus Interruptus, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-28
Updated: 2013-07-28
Packaged: 2017-12-21 14:03:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/901131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonsheen/pseuds/Moonsheen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Living with Koujaku has certain benefits. Living with Aoba has certain drawbacks.  (Post-Koujaku Route)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cohabitation

One of the untold benefits of cohabitation, Aoba decided, was that morning blowjobs were _awesome_.

Oh, sure, there were downsides. He'd had plans. He was getting kind of hungry. His hips hurt a little from how Koujaku was holding them up. It'd been fine at first, but Koujaku liked to take his time with Aoba, liked to circle him with purposeful swipes of his tongue. He liked to move his head up and down in that slow way that meant he could glance up to watch while he worked. Aoba grunted and looked away. It was too much, how _filthy hot_ the whole damn thing looked at that angle. The worst part was Koujaku was getting really damn good at it. The even worse part was he knew he was good at it. He liked to admire his work. Then he'd get back to it with a graceful lean of his head and an obscene slick noise and Aoba usually tried not to shout his head off first thing in the morning but goddamn if Koujaku didn't finish him off soon he might just punch a hole in the bed.

He grabbed at Koujaku's shoulder instead. His fingers fumbled over the thick dark lines of his tattoo, tracing the top line of it by memory. That got Koujaku going like a shot, got him pushing on Aoba's hip, his mouth closing around him at just the right pressure. This close, Aoba didn't mind opening his eyes--

The gas mask hovering over the bed was a bit of a surprise.

“Good morning, Master,” sang Clear. 'Sang' really was the word for it. Clear never just said things. He trilled or whined like a squeaky hinge. Aoba wasn't sure exactly what happened in those next few seconds, besides a sudden strangled noise from his boyfriend and the faintest horrifying hint of teeth before Koujaku launched himself bodily over the bed. Aoba found himself seated by himself on the bed alone, naked, and, by some miracle, still fully possessing of his junk.

Koujaku threw a sandal. Clear opened his umbrella. The sandal bounced off with a faint 'ping.'

“Goddamnit, Clear,” gasped Aoba, holding an arm out between them, which ended all launching of projectiles. He reached for the sheets. No good. Koujaku'd pulled them over with him. Of course he did. In spite of his regular bouts of general shamelessness, Koujaku _hated_ being seen naked. Aoba sighed and rearranged a leg to preserve some vague idea of modesty. He doubted Clear got much out of the view either way, but might as well not look _that_ welcoming of surprise visitors. “That could've ended really badly. I thought we talked about this.”

“Oh, yes. We did,” said Clear. The gas mask bobbed eagerly. Clear was very happy to remember things. He clicked the umbrella shut. It was well into summer and a perfectly sunny day, but there he was: coat and scarf. He had a box tucked under his other arm. “Climbing through windows can be considered breaking and entering, and may cause undue distraction and concern.”

That wasn't exactly how Aoba had put it, but Clear had gotten the general gist of it. “Yeah, and...?”

“And I came in through the door,” said Clear. “As you said.”

Somewhere behind the bed, Koujaku groaned. He'd managed to throw a yukata around his shoulders. He struggled with the tie, too annoyed to get the knot right. “That was _locked_.”

“...Clear,” said Aoba, in that careful, melodious, non-brain hurting tone that said: I've already nearly had my dick bitten off today. Do not throw Clear out the window. That'd send some really mixed signals. “Clear. Please tell me you didn't knock down the door."

“Oh, no, Master. Just the lock.”

Koujaku took a deep breath.“Ah,” he said, with a very careful smile. He combed his bangs back over his eye. Another thing Aoba knew about Koujaku -- he didn't actually like wearing his hair in his face. He fiddled with his bangs when he got agitated. “How... thoughtful of you. It must be very important.”

And there went Aoba's last hope on taking a rain-check on that blowjob. Clear hunched. 'Cock block' might not have been a part of his vocabulary, but Koujaku's Overwhelming Hospitality was a little hard to miss.

“Of the utmost importance,” said Clear, with a sudden gravity and concern that could have come from Ren in one of his fussier modes. “I was informed it was a matter of life or death.”

Aoba tried to reposition himself with a bit more dignity. Life or death, eh? Toue was gone, but that didn't mean there weren't plenty of people left in Midorijima with an agenda. Aoba tried to go through the list of people he might have pissed off over the years. It was longer than he would've liked. He could tell from the stilling of movement behind him that Koujaku was making the same kind of tally in his head. Aoba wondered if his list was longer or shorter. Shorter, very probably. Irate Ribsters and client boyfriends aside, most of the people in Koujaku's past were dead...

Agh, but that was an annoying thought. Clear. The issue right now was Clear.

“And that'd be?” asked Aoba.

Then, with one of those white flickers of movement too fast to really follow, Clear produced an object from beneath the folds of his coat. He held it out. It was a simple white box. Cardboard. Handle at the top....

Aoba stared. Koujaku breathed out. Aoba held his hand up again. It kept the peace, which was a good thing, because Koujaku was bristling and Clear's head tilted to the side, and of course.

Of course.

“Clear,” said Aoba. He kept his words clipped. It seemed the wiser course of action. “That's... a box of pastries.”

“Yes.”

“Are there pastries in that pastry box?”

“Yes,” said Clear, then with another quizzical tip of his head, “are there cases in which there are not?”

Aoba sort of wished so many examples of a few such cases didn't pop into his mind just then, but that was the product of a particularly colorful youth.

“Nevermind that,” said Aoba. “When you said it was important...”

“Mm. It's important that you eat,” said Clear. The box flickered off to rest on the nearby desk. In its place, in Clear's hands, was a six pack of melon drinks. “Ah, and I was told you would require hydration as well. I'm sorry I've been a bit behind on such things. While I am familiar with the general concept of these activities--”

Okay, that was a little alarming. “Clear, what.”

But Clear was really and truly babbling. “--I am less familiar with the physical consequences. Which I have been told can be quite severe if nothing is done for it--”

“Clear.”

“I wish I had been told sooner. I hope I am not too late. I like Master very much, and Koujaku-san... …” There was a moment of damning pause. “...Koujaku-san is very exuberant.”

'Koujaku-san' turned a little pale at the strange and horrifying turn this conversation had taken.

“So I would very much like to ensure both of your future health!”

Aoba moved the conversation back a few horrifying lines. In the meantime, he let Clear hand him one of the drinks. He cracked it open. He tried to offer it to Koujaku, but Koujaku hands were still half knotted into his yukata. He couldn't seem to stop getting his fingers in the knot. “....exuberant... physical... you were told.”

Ah. There it was.

“Someone... told you you should come?”

Gas-mask bobbed up and down.

“It wasn't Granny, was it?”

Gas-mask swayed left and right.

“We're fine, Clear,” said Aoba, in after thought.

“I am very glad to hear that,” said Clear, relaxing visibly. “I also brought some fresh fruit as well as certain types of ointments, just in case...”

“But, Noiz, if you've installed cameras in our bedroom I'm going to find you and make you eat them,” said Aoba, staring up at the ceiling.

The answering electronic hiss came from the bedside table.

“Like I have to,” came a slow, crackling drawl. “Laptop has a webcam.”

Koujaku snapped alive with a violent flush. Aoba found himself throwing himself bodily between him and the laptop. This model was already a replacement from the last time Noiz decided to contact them like that. “And just HOW MANY insects have gnawed their way through the walls today?!”

“Ehhh,” said Noiz, “seen filthier.”

Koujaku settled for throwing a sheet over the screen.

“....strong feelings about bon-bons?”

“I won't speak to him, Aoba,” said Koujaku, with a rather aristocratic sort of gritting of his teeth, “I won't.”

“Granny makes them best,” said Aoba. He stuck Koujaku's hand on his leg. It seemed a better place than through the laptop screen.

“Hm. Yeah. She said that,” said Noiz. He paused for a long time, as though gathering a deep breath, like what he said next was about to expend valuable energy he'd much rather direct towards something less trying than interrupting two guys in the middle of the morning on their day off. “...she also said there's more where that came from. You should bring that guy with you for lunch today. She said it's rude to leave him home half the time just because you're pretending you're still a virgin.”

“...” went Aoba.

“...” went Koujaku.

“...?” went Clear.

“The donuts are sweeter,” added Noiz, as though anyone really cared about that anymore.

“Fine,” said Aoba, as the polite fiction he’d maintained since since he was fourteen faded away into nothingness. “Tell Granny we’ll be over for lunch. Clear can come, too.”

Clear gave a pleased bow. “Thank you very much. I will be there as soon as I have finished my next delivery.”

This was a new career for Clear, apparently. “Your next delivery.”

“Yes,” said Clear, “to Scratch.”

Aoba’s head came up. Even Koujaku glanced up through his hand. “Scratch? The hell do they want?”

“I am not certain,” said Clear, “but it is pink and it vibrates at an interesting frequency.”

There was a long pause. Aoba levelled a stare at the bedside table.

“Noiz,” he said, finally, “what are you sending Mink?”

“Three settings, rhinestones, and a shit battery life,” said Noiz, after a moment. “Think he could use it.”

Even Aoba had to admit he had a point.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers: The lunch with Tae-san went very well, and Aoba did NOT let Noiz and the robot troll Scratch.
> 
> This is the problem when you romance Koujaku. It gives Noiz and Clear a chance to Talk.


End file.
